Unluck Of The Irish
by Datsamazin
Summary: Following the death of a delivery driver and nearly constant bombardment from his team. Jack finally decides to jump back into the dating scene. With it brings unforeseen results. Warning for mpreg! Chapter 4 finally up!
1. Chapter 1

_So, I was very disappointed in Season 8. The new character, Ruby. Is awful. This fic focuses on Jack and the team when Dwayne was still a part of it. Mpreg, of course lol. Enjoy!_

* * *

Detective Inspector Jack Mooney, wasn't the type to take dating advice too seriously. It had been 2 years now since his wife's passing. His colleagues, namely Dwayne, had attempted in giving him that extra nudge to get himself out there again. Even he had to admit, the concept was tempting.

With his daughter Siobhan only visiting the island sporadically between hectic demands of life at Uni. Meant the Shack had become a rather depressing and isolated place to be. Even despite the beautiful ocean scenery.

* * *

"Ben, those pizzas were supposed to be delivered 10 bloody minutes ago!"

A not so distant voice boomed, striking panic into the young delivery driver's heart. Saint Marie Slice was a popular establishment. Especially considering food of that sort was rather uncommon for the small, tropical island.

What wasn't winning any points in popularity, however, was the owner and manager, Thomas Forbes. A late delivery had sent him over the edge.

"Apologize to the customers for the delay. And don't expect a tip!"

The young man remained silent as he made his way out the back and to his car.

"Hey man, don't put up with Forbes' crap. He's all bark 'an no bite"

Chimed one of the dishwashers, leaning against the building having a smoke. Ben cracked a small smile, uttering a "thanks" before climbing into the seat and settling behind the wheel. He hadn't even bothered with a seat-belt. Hurrying onto the main road, towards his destination.

It was already a quarter past 6 pm, the only thing to work in his favor was the residence was only about 8 to 10 minutes out. The aroma of the pies filling the air around him almost made him forget the crappy pop music that was playing.

He glanced over briefly to make sure the pizzas were secured. When he looked back up was met with the blinding headlights of an oncoming vehicle. He screams in fear. Thinking fast, he swerves to avoid a collision.

He managed to avoid a head-on. Unfortunately, his speed caused the car to become unstable before flipping over twice and striking a tree. The impact basically ejecting him from his unsecured seat.

* * *

"Sooo, Chief. Give anymore thought into me hookin' you up with Darlene's friend, Holly?"

Dwayne cheekily inquires with an impish grin. The Inspector chuckles lightly whilst awkwardly avoiding eye contact and staring at the floor.

"It's mighty kind of ya, Dwayne. But still don't know if I'm there just yet"

The officer let's out a sigh loud enough to be heard by the entire station. Florence attempting to stifle her laughter with poor results. The team was just about to call it a day until JP suddenly announces.

"Sir, there's been an accident on Boulevard Chanzy, driver's dead"

Jack surveys his team. Drawing out a long, sharp exhale.

"Well, as they say. Love will have 'ta wait"

* * *

The team arrive at the scene shortly thereafter. Uniform and CSI scout the area. The vehical virtually unrecognizable. The poor, young driver suffered multiple injuries and lacerations from the crash. Jack shakes his head somberly.

"Had his whole life ahead of him, such a shame. Any word on what caused the accident?"

Dwayne examined what he could of the wreckage and makes his way over to the DI.

"Looks like he wasn't strapped in, Chief"

It wasn't long after he spotted the ambulance to transport the body to the morgue. Jack claps his hands lightly in order to get the investigators attention.

"I say we start fresh in the morning. Witness statements, background checks. That sorta thing"

Florence approaches the DI. Notebook in hand.

"Sir, before we wrap up. Looks like the victim was a delivery driver for Saint Marie Slice"

They hear Dwayne muttering something in discontent.

"Somethin' the matter there, Dwayne?"

Jack inquires with a raised brow. The constable scoffs and waves him off.

"Nah. Just don't like 'dah place. Kicked me out for bringin' 'mah own rum"

"Well, it is a family restaurant"

JP reminded him. The DI couldn't help but chuckle a bit at this. Leave it to Dwayne to attempt something like that.

"'An rum results in families. I'm helping 'da cause, JP"


	2. Chapter 2

"Here are those coroner reports you requested, sir"

JP stated, handing the file for the Inspector to exam. Jack raises his mug of coffee slightly and thanks the young man. They had yet to interview anyone, but that would soon be underway.

"Broke de C4 'an C5..."

"Bingo!"

Dwayne randomly interjects. Both colleagues and the DI glance at him confounded. He chuckles awkwardly, a sheepish expression gracing his face.

"Sorry, Chief. Couldn't help it"

Jack gives a brief awkward chuckle before resuming.

"All good, Dwayne. Let's start witness statements shall we?"

* * *

The obvious start-point was the young man's place of work. Saint Marie Slice was rather unassuming. A somewhat small establishment, but what it lacked in overall size, made up for in the number of customers they served daily. Upon entering, was the team greeted with the pleasant array of oregano, garlic and bread baking.

Jack approaches the counter and asks to speak with the manager. The young, blonde haired girl behind the till smiles at him before brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Of course"

She then disappears in the back briefly. Hearing the man's name uttered rather sharply. This is followed by a string of short-fused grousing he didn't think anyone else heard as he made his way around the front counter.

"What seems to be the problem?"

Jack couldn't help but shoot a brow up at his seemingly nonchalant attitude towards the whole matter.

"Well, your dead employee for starters"

Came a somewhat direct, yet witty response. The man's eyes widen in panic and quickly ushers the team as far from the patrons as the condensed square-footage allowed. He was well aware of his driver's untimely demise. However, such news said in such a public setting, casting a rather unfavorable light on the business.

"Yes, a shame about Ben. Are, are you suggesting it was murder?"

"We're open to the possibility, yes. Can you think of anyone he had a fallin' out with... Mr.?"

"Oh, Thomas Forbes. (Gives a low chuckle) but, please. Call me Tom"

Jack's eyes travel over to the area of the table the man had rested his hands. They seemed to have just the slightest touch of a tremble. This was interesting. Was this stress? underlying disease? Guilt? He hears Tom clear his throat before resuming once again.

"But no. I can't think of anyone that would want to hurt Ben. Everyone liked him"

Behind him he hears Florence interview other staff. Although it seemed the headway they were making was few and far between. The DI sighs and gets up from his seat.

"Well if ya can think of anything give us a ring"

Forbes nods his head "'course". Suddenly, Jack feels the swift weight of someone's hand on his shoulder. It was Dwayne.

"Chief, we gotta get outta here! They still haven't forgotten de rum thing"

He couldn't help but laugh faintly at this

"No worries, Dwayne. We're goin' "

However, just as the team of four were headed back to the Land Rover did Jack wind up colliding with a short haired brunette in the midst of her entering the pizzeria. In those following seconds did he feel the most intense wave of embarrassment and maladroit wash over him. The only things to sway in his favor was the fact nothing fell and both escaped injury.

"Oh, my word. I'm so sorry"

His words riddled with guilt. To his surprise she didn't get upset. What's more, it almost seemed like she acted as if nothing happened. She smiles and pulls the hem of her top further down.

"These things happen. It's okay"

The second he heard that Irish inflection in her voice he was hooked. It was rare for the island to see many British travelers. Even rarer having them hail from Ireland. He could feel the blood rushing to his face, feeling as though a heating pad was placed directly on his cheeks. He notices Florence by the driver's side door. An indeterminable smile gracing her face as she watched the two of them.

"Well good..(he states and heads off towards the vehicle) .by the way, never got your name"

She turns her attention from him to the door. Simultaneously whilst opening it responds with an airy chuckle.

"Alannah"

Not wanting to miss his moment. He hurriedly retrieves one of his business cards from his pants pocket. Walking as briskly as he possibly could to hand the card over to her.

"Ah, Jack.. well, we'll be in touch"

She once again smiles towards him. Only this time it seemed rather coquettish. Naturally, he couldn't return to the Rover without Dwayne playfully goading him. A wry grin plastered on his face.

"Ooooh, looks like you have an admirer, Chief"


	3. Chapter 3

Roughly a week had passed since Jack's inadvertent run-in Alannah. He was beginning to think perhaps she'd forgotten or simply lost interest in ever actually contacting him. He had to admit, this was a tad disheartening. But with an ongoing murder investigation, he couldn't allow his personal affairs to meddle too much.

"Soo Chief? Any word from your admirer?"

Dwayne questions rather playfully with an almost impish expression. Jack sighs and peers at his phone one last time before slipping it in his back pocket.

"Nothin' yet. But no sense in dwellin' on it, Florence have ya heard anymore from Ben's family that may help us?"

The young woman turns her attention to her computer screen and starts tapping away at the keyboard. A look of determination.

"Nothing new, sir. But we'll keep trying"

As if by some fluke in the cosmetic universe, he felt his phone buzz briefly with the arrival of a text. A text from Alannah.

" _So sorry I couldn't write sooner. You know how life can be haha. Anyway, was curious if you were available for a drink at Catherine's tonight? say, 8 pm?"_

Jack could feel his heart leap into his throat. Was this really happening? Was he dreaming? JP took notice to his D.I's shocked expression and inquired.

"Everythin' alright, sir?"

Upon hearing this he instantly snaps back into reality. Practically stumbling over himself.

"Oh, uh..it is. Thanks, JP"

The young man flashes a small smile before delving back into his case files. He notices Dwayne's eyes travel, trying to see what exactly was the cause behind his sudden state of speechlessness.

" _Hmm_.. do I detect some love in de air, Chief?"

Jack chuckles rather awkwardly and once more, choosing to look down at the floor.

"Perhaps, Dwayne" He couldn't help but a small smile start pulling at the corners of his mouth.

* * *

Night skies started blanketing the small Caribbean island. The time nearing their agreed drink _date_. It went without saying he was rather nervous, even with all the time that had passed since his wife's death. There was still that tiny part of him that cast doubt. He spots her at one of the small tables. Adorned in a charming white blouse with anchor print and dark wash denim. She was stunning.

He clears his throat, trying to mentally hype himself up. Why was this so difficult? It was odd to him he was more comfortable in his work surrounded by corpses than he was with just tying to be a normal human being and have a social life. He makes one last adjustment to the collar of his navy blue dress shirt and proceeds with approaching the table.

"Jack!"

Her face lit up as she went to wrap him in a quick hug. Catching him completely by surprise, but it's not to say it wasn't a pleasant one.

"Sit down, please (whilst patting the area across from her) I took the liberty of ordering our drinks. Hope ya like rum"

"Have yet to meet one I don't"

To say he was a bit shocked was an understatement. Her entire demeanor was, dare to say, different, somehow. As if she finally broke free from her shell and let her real self shine through. As cheesy and cliche as it may be, Jack found this possibly the most attractive quality.

"Alright, dat's two Island Dreams for de lovely couple"

Catherine beams and sets the exotic, embellished drinks in front of them.

"Mighty fine of ya, Catherine"

States the Detective Inspector. Gazing longingly at the chestnut haired beauty, giggling softly whilst partially hidden behind the decorative, festive drink umbrella.

"So, what do ya do for work?"

Jack finally inquires. Only minutes earlier learning her last name was Byrne. Nice, classic Irish. She smiles and touches her oddly alluring golden snake earrings. He'd assumed it was some sort of allegory to the patron Saint of Ireland.

"Freelance journalist, actually"

 _Interesting_. He thought, they shared a few stories, some good, some bad. As the night progressed, so did the drinks. Jack wasn't normally one for drinking in excess. He most certainly wasn't one to engage in, ahem, spontaneous _activities._ However, that night, that night was different.

And for the first time in a long time, he felt the weight of the world being lifted from his shoulders. Soon the pair found themselves back at the _Shack_. As to be expected, Harry darted out to the old, weathered patio to investigate what all the noise was about. Alannah noticed him out the corner of her eye and gasps.

"Well, who's this 'lil laddie?"

The accentuation of her Irish only made her more endearing in Jack's eyes. Hell, it was down right adorable. He laughs.

"That's just Harry. Helps with the rent on occasion"

She chuckles, giving an almost seductive-like smirk. It all seemed so whirlwind. He takes in a breath of air and gulps anxiously. Taking her hands into his.

"You're sure 'bout this?"

He inquired. Like some naive schoolboy. She chuckles once again, taking note that Harry had long since vanished. She looks deeply into his eyes with a cute, crooked little smile.

"Bet yer Blarney Stones I am"


	4. Chapter 4

Nearly a month had passed since Jack's date with Alannah. They would text on occasion, but that was usually the extent of it. Per usual, jobs, life, everything, just got in the way of doing anything else. But perhaps this was a blessing in disguise, as the poor DI had been battling with, what he assumed to be, a nasty case of stomach flu for the past two weeks.

"Maybe 'dis will help ya, sir"

JP stated whilst kindly offering him a mug of freshly brewed coffee. Jack gives a small smile, before he even had a chance to thank the young man. The hot beverage's aroma took command of his smell receptors and rendered him completely helpless. Next thing he knew, he was rushing to Honoré's tiny restroom. JP turns to Dwayne with a cocked brow.

"Wha's 'da matter with 'de Inspector?"

Dwayne shrugged his shoulders, weary eyes traveling to land upon the mug.

"'Have no clue, JP. But I do have one on who's gettin' 'dat coffee now"

Again, the poor young officer appeared confused. This, however, is quickly extinguished as Dwayne's fingers gestured out and drew back in, as a signal for Best to relinquish the cup to him instead. He chuckles with a crooked smile and hands it over.

"I'm gonna check on 'de Inspector"

Dwayne cradled the mug in both hands. Eyes closed, a warm smile. A general appearance of pure contentment had washed over him. He takes a sip and, once more, looking towards his hands to back his verbal duties, waves the young man off.

"You do you, man"

JP had unfortunately arrived outside the flimsy wooden door just in time to hear Jack emptying the contents of his stomach, he grimaced. Something wasn't right, it was unlike the DI to become ill. Even more puzzling was their consistent tropical weather wasn't your typical breeding ground for the virus. But that's not to say Saint Marie was immune to it. There had been a few cases over the island's history since its first days of colonization. JP raps on the door lightly.

"Sir, are you okay?"

Initially there was silence, then the sound of the toilet being flushed. Mooney washes his hands briskly before sluggishly opening the door. He pats the officer on the shoulder, before giving a small, crooked smile.

"All good, JP. 'Preciate the concern. I don't suppose ya still have 'mah coffee mug?"

Despite the smell setting off a nuclear reaction with his currently sensitive stomach. He just couldn't *not* have his java. JP suddenly appeared sheepish. His face turning a slight shade of cherry red. He chuckles inwardly, unsure of exactly how to respond.

"Actually, sir.. ugh, Dwayne's drinkin' it"

"I figured as much" he replied with a light chuckle, as he and the officer made their short trek back to the main office area. The poor constable's eyes nearly bulged from his skull upon catching sight of his superior eyeing the mug in his hands. He chuckles once more.

"You can stand down, Dwayne. No need 'tah panic"

Instantly he could see the relieved expression wash over the constable's face. A corner of his mouth morphs into a crooked grin. He takes another sip of coffee.

"Ah, thanks Chief"

No sooner was he finally able to relax, when the Commissioner suddenly appeared. Nearly causing the scalding liquid to land in his lap. The bulldog-quasi law enforcement head found the near-mishap a bit more amusing than Dwayne had. Which was saying something, seeing as the man seldomly broke that deadpan expression.

"Commissioner!"

Dwayne practically blurted out whilst simultaneously saluting. The stout, mostly humorless man gave a light huff and wave of his hand, as a signal for Myers to sit back down. Jack adjusted his tie and swiftly made his way over.

"Commissioner, what can I do ya for?"

Chances were he was very displeased with the slow progression of the case. Selwyn wasn't exactly the first person one would think of when it came to patience. And with Florence away for a week, attending to personal family matters. Made the whole situation that much worse when also factoring in the three and a half weeks wasted with nothing to show. He cocked his brow towards Jack, instantly striking him with an overwhelming sensation of anxiety.

"Inspector, de people of 'dis island expect to be protected. How can we do that when there's still a killer on de loose 'an so much time has passed?"

It was within that moment, the hellacious nausea was threatening to make its presence known for a second time that day. If there was one thing Jack was certain of. He didn't need help in further tarnishing his competence as a DI. And inadvertently vomiting on such an intimidating authority figure would surely clench his chances of being stripped of his badge.

"Hold that thought"

Jack unwittingly, brusquely stated. Before a hand flew over his mouth and the index finger of his free hand pointing upwards to signify this, as he made a mad dash back to the restroom. Meanwhile, the Commissioner was left in the dark. JP nervously cleared his throat.

"Sorry 'bout dat, sir. Inspector has been a bit under de weather, lately"

Again, the poker-faced powerhouse raised a brow. Deep down, he really did care, and despite outward appearances, was one of the most charitable men on the island. However, when it came to murder investigations and the time crunches to solve them. Oftentimes he found himself putting his feelings on the back-burner for the time being.

"Well, see to it he is feelin' over de weather soon. I don't want this to be 'ah repeat of Inspector Poole's three month long nonsense"

The young man swallowed nervously.

"Uh, yes sir. We'll get right on it"

* * *

The day's chaos was finally to an end. The Irishman returned to the Shack, looking forward to ditching the work clothes and letting his feet breathe. However, before he is set to put things into motion. He wants to take care of one, very crucial thing first. Something he hadn't done in nearly 25 years. He makes his way, albeit, a bit hesitantly, towards the bathroom. Retrieving the small white box from the medicine cabinet and eyes scanning the instructions.

"This' malarkey"

He muttered to himself. But the symptoms didn't lie. He withdrew the small plastic object, inhaling deeply through his nose. Making short order of his business, before setting it atop a couple layers of folded toilet tissue. His phone's timer set to go off in about five minutes. Again, he inhales deeply, a pang of nervousness washing over him. He sets his shoes aside and loosens his tie. Noticing that Harry was uncharacteristically absent.

Before long, the alarm sounds off. He shuts his eyes briefly for a moment, finally making life-altering trek back for said object to read him his fate. He slides the alarm button to _off_ , gingerly plucking the device from its place on the counter, his breath hitched.

"Two pink lines"


End file.
